THINGS FALL APART
by KpCw
Summary: In the Chicago Institute, chaos is brewing. A mysterious girl with a strange past stumbles one night, much to the surprise of the Institute's Nephilim residents. Who is Cecilia Ierocim? And what could her appearance mean for the Shadowhunters? ALL OC'S.


THINGS FALL APART: CHAPTER ONE

**Ah, hello! It's me, KpCw! So, it's been awhile. Some of you might've read my Kingdom Hearts FanFiction story, Hearts of Gold. That is still a work in progress; I've had an immense writer's block concerning the plot and truthfully I've lost most of my interest in the story. THIS ONE, HOWEVER, IS DIFFERENT. If some of you would care to know, I have an IMVU account, and I role-play with others about the Mortal Instruments Series by Cassandra Clare. THEREFORE; I have OODLES of inspiration and plot-twists concerning my favorite Nephilim series. In this story, there are ALL ORIGINAL CHARACTERS, with maybe a few mentions or appearances of Mrs. Clare's characters. (Magnus, Alec, etc.) This is a short chapter, but it's mostly an introduction to see what response I get and whether or not I should continue… So, without further ado… THINGS FALL APART.**

_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments Series by Cassandra Clare or any of its characters. Original characters belong to their IMVU owners. Cecilia Ierocim belongs to me.**_

Cold rain drizzled down the streets of the Windy City, pelting passerby and seas of yellow cabs as people made their way home. It was around nine o'clock; the streets were not crowded and the few stragglers left on the sidewalks and the street corners were ignored as easily as a wet page of the morning newspaper. With no exception, no one noticed two cloaked figures making their way down the sidewalk to an old abandoned church. The building appeared to be crumbling in several places, the roof hanging in tatters and the widow glass shattered from rough storms of the past. The church, formerly known as Saint Michael's, had been condemned many years ago but never torn down, much to the dismay of some of the city dwellers who would rather place a nice park or hotel in its spot. However, the city board had never agreed to tear down the old church, and so it still stood, rotting slowly away. This fact did not seem to bother the two cloaked figures, however, and they made their way up to the doors, entering quickly without being seen and leaving the cold, rainy night behind them.

The two stepped into the Institute, their wet boots squeaking softly on the polished marble floors and echoing off the mahogany walls. The inside of the Institute was expensively furnished, with green overstuffed couches and armchairs and beautiful paintings of the angel Raziel, holding the Mortal Sword and the Mortal Cup over a lake. Beneath the glamour outside, the Chicago Institute was a grand church, completely unlike the crumbling St. Michaels' which appeared to the mundane. Large, proud, impressive, with grand turrets and stained glass windows, it rose from the crumbled façade, barely hidden but cleverly concealed. Inside, the two removed their wet boots and soaked cloaks. They revealed themselves to be around nineteen or twenty; a boy with midnight hair and sparkling violet eyes, and a brunette girl with soft brown ones. They were both somewhat tall; the boy being around six-foot-two, and the girl around five-foot-nine. Both seemed exhausted as they made their way into the foyer of the Institute, collapsing heavily into two armchairs in front of the roaring fireplace, chasing the chills of the wet, frigid night away. They sat in comfortable, weary silence before the girl broke it.

"Damian, did you manage to catch the demon's name?"

The boy closed his eyes and rested his head against the chair back. "It was a Shax demon; I believe his name was Kurrenx, Alex."

The girl, Alex, also known as Alexandreina Herondale, nodded. "Good work. I wouldn't have been able to remember even if I tried. Demon languages are hard for me to decipher."

Damian, also known as Damian Deadheart, chuckled lightly. "Even with all your years of training? Alex, Alex, Alex… What would Jonathan say if he knew that?"

Alex turned red at the mention of their tutor. "He would… Yeah, you're right."

"I'm always right. You should know that by now."

Alex laughed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay." She crossed her legs and threw them over the arm of the chair, facing the fire and smirking. Damian kept his head leaned back and his eyes closed, almost ready to just drift off once more… Suddenly, the sound of a door opening and closing and soft squeaks resonated through the Institute. Damian's eyes flew open, bewildered. He looked to Alex, who seemed equally surprised and a tad bit alarmed.  
"Were you expecting someone, Alex?"

"No, were you? Who's here?"

"I wasn't; I don't know."

They both jumped as a soft voice floated to them, their well-trained hands immediately coming to rest on the hilts of their seraph blades.

"Hello? Is anyone here? I need help…" The voice sounded weak, worn-down, and definitely feminine.

Damian gestured to Alex to remain quiet, and stood. He crept silently to the doorway, keeping his back pressed to the wall, and peered around the corner. He held his seraph blade at the ready, whispering 'Michael', and watching as it flared up, while his violet eyes searched the entrance hall where the voice had seemed to originate from. They widened as he spotted a young woman, around 17, sitting on the floor, surrounded by a puddle of blood, coughing softly.

"Alex! Bring the med pack!"

Damian didn't wait to see if she had responded, but dashed to the girl's side. She must to have been a Shadowhunter; Downworlders couldn't enter the Institute. Only those with the blood of the Angels could lay a hand on the doorknob without being burned or repelled in some way. He knelt down by the woman, taking in her appearance. She didn't seem to be bodily injured, but the blood pooling around them didn't lie. For a moment, he feared that maybe it wasn't HER blood. Had she killed someone else? Was someone else injured? Had she come for help?

"Miss, what's wrong? Who are you? Can I—"

Damian was cut off as she raised her head to look at him. The blood was pouring from her mouth and nose, gushing a bit with each cough she uttered that rocked her petite frame. Her eyes, a powder blue, looked pleadingly to him.

"Please, I n-need help…"

Damian lurched forward to catch her as she collapsed forward, holding her as she coughed violently.

"Alex!" He roared, "Infirmary!"

He scooped the girl into his arms and rushed down the nearest corridor, turning around seemingly endless corners, doors flying by them as he rushed to the Institute's infirmary. He nearly tripped once or twice in his mad scramble, but he never dropped her. Damian held the girl tightly to his chest as they neared the Infirmary, and he spotted Alex already inside. She was digging through one of the many cabinets, searching. As he sprinted into the room, Alex looked up.

"Damian! What the hell—" She stopped as soon as she saw the girl, her wide brown eyes taking in the blood everywhere.

"By the Angel… What happened to her?"

"I don't know, but I don't think she's going to make it if she doesn't get help soon!"

"Put her on the bed, then! Don't just stand there!"

Damian nodded once and carried the girl to the nearest bed while Alex found what she was looking for. He placed her gently on top of the sheets, eyebrows furrowing in concern as the girl whimpered in pain and confusion. Her eyes were open, watching him and Alex with a frightened curiosity and a morbid understanding as they worked around her. Damian felt compelled to say something to her, to reassure her, but he restrained himself from doing so. He had learned that it was best to remain emotionally unattached; especially in situations like these. However, despite his own personal mantra, he spoke quietly to the girl.

"It's alright. We're trying to help you. Relax."

The girl's eyes widened as he addressed her, but she nodded. Alex raised an eyebrow at the exchange, knowing for a fact that Damian tried to avoid emotional connections. She pushed it out of her head, however, to focus on the task at hand. She would question Damian at a later time.

"That's right, dear. Now, what can we do?"

There was a sense of urgency in the room, and it didn't help when the girl hesitated.

"I need-" She coughed again, blood splattering her front. "I need b-blood… and an iratze."

Without further question, Alex blinked and pulled out her stele; a long silver cylinder with the Herondale family seal engraved on one end. She picked up the girl's arm gently and traced the opposite end of the stele against the skin of her wrist, watching as she drew an iratze in the ink-black lines of their people. The iratze, once completed, flashed a brilliant gold before fading into her skin, startling both Alex and Damian. Runes flashed white when they were activated; not gold. It seemed to work, however, as the girl's coughing ceased and her eyes slipped shut. Alex looked her over and raised an eyebrow to Damian.

"Blood? Well…" Alex replaced her stele in her belt and reached for her seraph blade before Damian stopped her.

"You got the iratze. I have this."

He avoided her eyes as he pulled out his own seraph and making a single quick slice across his wrist. If the pain bothered him, he didn't show it. Damian knelt by the girl's bed, holding his wrist out to her.

"Miss, here. Take what you need."

Her eyes opened slowly and took in his wrist, sliced and bleeding before her. She trembled fearfully.

"Are y-you sure, sir?"  
"Just take it."

Damian pressed his wrist to her mouth, urging her to take what he was offering. She looked to him again before taking his wrist gently in her hands and opening her mouth to receive the blood. Damian forced himself not to shiver at the light touch of her cold hands or the feel of her lips against his skin. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way? He pushed the thoughts out of his head as the girl fed a little faster, noticing his inner conflict and wishing to end the experience for him as quickly as possible. Alex stood over them, her arms crossed across her chest. After a few more moments, the girl released Damian's wrist, a bit of color coming to her cheeks.

"Thank you, sir. I know it must have been uncomfortable-"

"It was nothing. Believe me, I am fine. You, however, need to rest. If you will excuse me…"

Damian strode out of the room quickly, wishing to distance himself and confront his emotional state, which was coming out of check. He left the two girls behind, but not before eavesdropping a bit.

"What is your name, dear?"

"Cecilia. But I prefer Cecily. Cecily Ierocim."

Damian shook his head to clear it and made his way to his room, her name repeating itself over and over again in his head despite his best efforts.

Alex shook her head as she watched Damian exit the room. Judging by the hurt look on the girl's face and the way she watched him, Alex knew she blamed herself. After asking for her name, Alex sat on the edge of Cecily's bed and smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry about Damian, dear. He's always like that."

Cecily didn't seem too convinced. She sat up, cross-legged on the bed. "I shouldn't have asked for blood and I shouldn't have accepted it from him. I should've gone hunting…"

Alex shook her head. "Nonsense. It's fine."

They lapsed into a somewhat awkward silence, before Alex decided to ask another question.

"Uh, Cecily?"

"Yes?"

"What exactly… are you?"

Cecily blanked for a moment, and Alex seized it to examine the girl a little closer. She had bi-tone hair; the top layers were a honeyed blonde, the bottom layers ink-black. Her eyes, a bright powder blue, sparked with an inner fire and immense curiosity. She was petite, with a slight figure but one Alex suspected could be intimidating at times. Her hands were small and delicate but calloused slightly. She'd had to work hard in her life, but it was mostly inconsistent. She had a small white scar across the bridge of her nose, and another on her left forearm. When she finally answered, Alex noticed that her voice was considerably softer.

"I…I was a fledgling. Vampire, I mean."

Alex's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"Then how did you get inside? This place is holy; vampires can't enter at all. And that iratze would've killed you as soon as it was completed." She blinked. "And what do you mean by 'was'?"

"I don't know what I am now. I… A man experimented on me; he injected Angel's blood into me to test a theory about Downworlder bloodlines."

"A man? Experiments? Do you remember his name?" Alex knew what she would say, her heart was crashing painfully against her ribcage in anticipation of her answer.

Cecily kept her eyes trained on her hands in front of her, still sitting cross-legged on the bed.

"His name was Morgenstern. Valentine Morgenstern."


End file.
